Champion
by scully8746
Summary: Angel reacts to Buffy's death (post-"Gift")
1. One

::Title:**Champion**::  
::Author:Chrissy::  
::Email:scully8746@hotmail.com::  
::Summary:Angel reacts to Buffy's death::  
::Spoilers:Seas.6/2::

  
  
  


Willow sat in silence behind the wheel of Giles's car, her eyes shut tightly, steeling her courage to walk inside. It had been two hours of straight driving all evening long. Two hours of agonizing over what to say, and how to say it. Two hours of wishing that Angel had just _answered_ the goddamn telephone so that she wouldn't have to see his face when she told him. So she wouldn't have to watch him break.

"Just open the door," she directed herself. Surprisingly enough, her hand finally obeyed the command, and without remembering her body actually sliding out of the car, her feet actually moving over the pavement, Willow found herself at the front door of Angel's hotel.

It was another battle to make herself ring the bell, and then pound on the door, and then let herself in, wondering where the hell everyone could be at eight at night, and where they could've been all day.

"Hello?" Willow called as loudly as she could. "Angel? Anyone home?"

There was no answer, and Willow nearly screamed. She dreaded telling Angel, as much as she'd ever feared anything in her life.

Because she knew how he would react. She knew it already. Angel loved Buffy more than anything or anyone else in the world. How he and Buffy had managed to go on _living_ without each other for the past two years, she couldn't even fathom.

However they had done it, it was all over now. Willow might as well have been wearing the black cloak of Death Itself, with the news that she brought. And she knew it.

But she wanted it over.

~*~*~

Relief was the foremost word on Angel's mind that night. Oh, to be _home_ again! He laughed jovially as he voiced everyone's thoughts. "There's no place like..." The pale figure occupying his dusty couch stopped Angel right in his tracks. "Willow!"

"What's..." Cordelia stopped too, frowning in worried surprise.

Willow struggled to her feet. She could see it in his face already, and screwed her eyes shut for a long zillionth of a second. The words she had run over and practiced again and again were gone. Her mouth opened with her eyes, but Willow was speechless.

"It's Buffy," Angel managed at last. "Oh God, it's Buffy, isn't it?" He looked to Willow as though he was going to be sick.

Wesley saw it too, and reached out to steady him. He looked and felt stunned, his feet frozen in place. But Angel shook him off, his eyes never breaking their lock with Willow's, pleading with her, begging for it to be someone else, anyone else.

Willow's eyes closed again, and she nodded fractionally, wincing as if waiting for an explosion.

Angel was silent for a moment, fighting the tears behind his eyes and the lump that had swelled in his throat. "I think I need to sit down," he said finally, stumbling toward the couch.

Willow sat down beside him, and reached for his cold hand.

"Wh-What happened?" Cordelia asked unevenly, clearing her throat. she too was frozen in place. 

Willow glanced at Angel hesitantly, as if asking his permission to continue. But Angel's gaze was unfocused, staring absently at a spot on the wall behind her. After a moment, Willow went on without him. "There was a fight," she said, her voice shaking to say it, even now. It had, in fact, only been a day - less than a day - but it felt like an eternity... and a second, at the same time.

"Glory," she continued. 

Wesley looked startled, but didn't say anything.

"Glory lost, but... she opened the portal, and... it was either Dawn or Buffy. Buffy jumped," Willow concluded hollowly. "She fell through the portal... it pretty much d-drained... and she..." She couldn't finish.

Cordelia let out a stifled gasp, her hand quickly rising to cover her mouth. Wesley looked horrified, Gunn furious. 

Angel's eyes were closed now, but Willow could see silent tears running down his cheeks.

It was Fred who finally broke the inevitable silence that followed, her hand raised timidly in the air. "Wh-Who's Buffy?"

Willow couldn't hold it in anymore. She wrapped Angel in a tight hug and began to cry. "Angel, I'm so sorry!" she sobbed. "I didn't want to be the one to tell you, but..."

Angel hugged her tightly and then pulled away. "When did it happen?" He seemed to have regained control of his emotions.

Willow pulled a tissue from her pocket and blew her nose before continuing. "I'm sorry. I just..." She took a deep breath. "Sometime early this morning... I wasn't really looking at my watch."

Cordelia pulled her desk chair over to sit beside them. "Who's Glory?" she asked hollowly.

"A God," Willow replied. "She was a god of another dimension, but then she was banished and came to Earth, to this dimension."

"Glory...," Wesley breathed, pulling a chair up too. "Glorificus, of course! I knew the name sounded familiar..."

"I can't believe she's really...," Cordelia murmured. "I mean... she's _Buffy_! How can she be...?"

"Who's Buffy?" Fred asked again, completely bewildered.

Gunn cleared his throat. "Angel, if you don't mind, I'll drive this one over to her folks' place. I'm sure they'd love to hear from her." He indicated Fred, who still looked confused, but followed obediantly. Gunn paused at the door. He couldn't make his eyes meet Angel's, and his voice cracked as he said it. "I'm sorry, man." Then he was gone.

The four remaining sat in silence for a long moment, lost in their own private thoughts. Cordelia was crying now, openly and unabashedly. Wesley moved to comfort her. 

Willow was both relieved and scared at the same time. Telling Angel was over with. There was the relief. The fear was in the next minute, and the next, and the next. _'Buffy... you're the one who knows how to do all this stuff! How am I going to do it without you?'_

Angel wasn't really thinking anything. His mind was blank, empty. He figured that he was in shock. He just simply couldn't believe it. How could Buffy _die_? He hadn't gotten his reward yet! He wasn't human, and now she wasn't there to share it with him! Buffy _was_ his redemption... wasn't she? And how could it ever truly be a reward if she wasn't there with him?

No. There had to be a mistake. It was the whole point of him being a vampire, of giving up the temptation of remaining human when the Mohra demon had changed him, so that he could protect her, as a vampire... when the Mohra demon had...

"Oh God...," he murmured, as this new pain hit him. "She never... she never _knew_..."

Willow looked up in surprise. "What?"

"About... us... she never knew I was human...," he rambled incoherently. 

Cordelia gasped as she realized what Angel meant. "Oh my God... Angel..."

"What?!" Willow repeated, at the same time exasperated and worried. "Cordelia, what is he talking about?"

Angel jumped off the couch and exited to the garden. It was too much. He needed to be alone.

In his wake, Cordelia began to explain, her voice shaking and choking as every syllable began to sink in. "God... it's so unfair... last year, do you remember when Angel went to Sunnydale to help Buffy? And then I guess she found out, and she followed him here?"

"Yeah...," Willow said, puzzled. "What about it?"

Cordelia took a deep breath. "Doyle told me... right before he died... Angel was human for that day!" she burst out. "He and Buffy had to fight some kind of demon, and its blood made Angel human."

"Why didn't Buffy... why didn't she say any-... and wait a minute, Angel's a vampire again!" Willow pointed out. "What happened?"

Cordelia shook her head. "I don't know exactly. He and Buffy were together, like... well... you know what I mean." She blushed. "I don't know exactly what happened, but something went wrong, and Angel had to turn back the clock and swallow those twenty-four hours, like it never happened. He's the only one that remembers."

Willow gasped. "Then Buffy _died_-"

"Without knowing," Wesley finished, scowling fiercely. "Frankly, I wish I hadn't remembered that. It just makes me feel worse."

Willow nodded miserably. "Poor Angel."

"You don't know the half of it," Cordelia said disconsolately.

"God, I'm not even sure I want to know...," Willow muttered.

"There was a prophecy we found last year," Cordelia continued.

Wesley nodded sadly as he realized what she was saying. "Yes, the Shanshu prophecy."

Willow glanced over at him, confused, as he took over the explanation.

"It prophesized that the vampire with the soul - that is to say, Angel - will one day be human," Wesley explained numbly. "First he has to avert the Apocalypse... technically, he's done that several times... I suppose they were all the wrong... erm... apocalypse-s." 

"But, wait, Angel's going to be _human_ one day?" Willow persisted.

Cordy nodded. "Yeah."

Wesley smiled bitterly. "And if Buffy's gone... she'll never know."

~*~*~

Angel rubbed his eyes, wiping the tears away, and had made it several steps toward a nearby puddle of water to check that he didn't look as if he'd been crying... and then he remembered that he was on Earth, not Pylea, and therefore didn't have a reflection.

He had to go back. He was the leader, the strong one, and he had to be there for Willow, and Cordelia and Wes.

How could he be strong now?

~*~*~

Willow stood up as Angel came back into the room. "I have to get back," she said quickly. "I just came up to... to let you know."

"You're going back tonight?" Angel questioned, surprised. "That's a long drive. Why don't you stay here tonight and go back tomorrow morning?"

Willow shook her head. "I can't. I really have to get back. Tara's in the hospital, and I know she's really creeped out. I need to go stay with her."

"Tara?" Wesley questioned, confused.

"Her girlfriend," Angel replied.

Willow's eyebrows went up. "How do you know her?"

"B-Buffy... she told me, when I went down there when Joyce... when Joyce died." A new thought occured to him. "God, how's Dawn doing?"

It took Willow a moment to reply. "Devastated," she finally said. "At the hospital, they... they had to restrain her. She was hysterical."

"Why was she at the hospital?" Angel asked sharply. "Is she okay? What happened?"

"It's not serious," Willow assured him. "She got cut across the stomach. They needed her blood for the ritual. It wasn't deep; they're going to release her tomorrow." 

"Why is it that they always have to pick on the little kids..." Cordy muttered.

"Dawn is hardly a little kid," Angel replied softly.

Willow smiled ruefully. "Did she tell you about that too?" Angel nodded. "Yeah..." To Cordelia, "Dawn is not a normal teenager. In fact... well, she's human, but her human self is only a few months old. She's the Key, ancient energy that could open Glory's portal."

"Oh my God," Cordelia murmured.

Willow stood up. "Alright. I guess I'd better get going."

"Are you sure you don't want to spend the night here?" Cordelia offered. "I don't know if you're really in the right kind of shape to be driving somewhere." 

"I really need to get back," Willow repeated softly.

Angel rubbed his eyes exhaustedly. Funny how he could be _tired_ at a time like this... but maybe sleep would be good. He stood slowly. "Take care," he said to Willow. "Drive safe." He took the stairs to his bedroom two at a time. "Goodnight."

Willow stared at his retreating figure. When he was gone, she turned to Wesley and Cordelia.

"I don't know how he can _sleep_," Cordelia grumped.

"I think he's in denial," Willow said softly.

"Pfft," Cordelia waved her off sarcastically. "Why would he accept when he could _brood_?"

"Cordelia," Wesley said in an undertone.

She sighed. "I'm sorry. I just... I'm _worried_ about him! What if he goes all... evil psychopath-guy again? Wesley..."

"I know," he said grimly, and his gaze wandered up the stairs. "I know."

Willow didn't seem to have noticed their exchange. She stood uncomfortably, shifting her weight from foot to foot. "I... I guess I should go..."

Cordelia nodded slowly. "If you're sure you won't... I mean..."

Willow shook her head. "I'm... I'll be fine. I... we'll call you."

"Good," Wesley said, clearing his throat. "Yes..."

"Bye," Willow said finally, and she walked out the door.

After a moment, Cordelia started. She glanced down at her clothes and chuckled. "I mean, I guess with everything that's going on, I shouldn't be surprised Willow didn't notice... still..."

Wesley smiled slightly, but he didn't answer for a moment. His smile faded and he glanced upstairs. "I guess I'll stay for awhile. Just monitor him. You should go home."

Cordelia nodded. "I really need a shower. But then I'll be back."

When the door was shut, Wesley turned to his books. Everything Willow had said had been familiar... he needed to find out more about Glory...

~*~*~

Angel stared out the window. He's seen Willow leave before. She's sat in her car for awhile before she'd been able to pull out.

He could sympathize.

_'And here goes Cordy...'_ She nearly fell into the convertable, and pulled the top up before she pulled out. 

Angel turned away from the window. Behind him, he heard the engine rev and the tires squeal as Cordelia shot out of his driveway. The motor ground against itself as Cordy shifted in the wrong direction. He no longer cared. His beautiful car and his pride for it were distant memories in a forgotten past. All he could think of now was Buffy.

His hand longed for a tumbler of whiskey to hold, to sip, to fill and refill until he was so deliciously drunk that the glass would slip from his hands and fall to the floor, falling until it smashed on the ground, broken bones and torn muscles, barely contained in tattered, lifeless flesh...

Why Buffy? Why not Dawn? He knew it was selfish. He certainly didn't want Dawn to _die_... but he wanted Buffy not to die even more.

And he'd never told her. He'd let her go to her grave without ever knowing that he'd never truly given up on them being together someday, even when she'd been with...

Angel scowled in the darkness. That _stupid asshole_. He hoped it felt like a knife in the gut when the jerk found out. He prayed it hurt the bastard as badly as he was hurting, to know what he could've prevented if he'd opened his eyes and realized _what he had_.

And what Angel would never, could never, have had. Didn't Riley realize how lucky he was? Angel would've _killed_ to be that close to Buffy. To be _allowed_ to love her, with all his heart and soul. What did it matter if she didn't love him back? Just to be able to be with her all day... to see where she went, and what she ate, which classes she took, where she shopped, got her hair cut... picnics in _daylight_, the beach, car rides... to be anywhere, to be with her.

It was simply _wrong_. The whole deal was raw, unfair. That Buffy had died.

That she'd died alone.

  
  
  


Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6


	2. Two

(((Part Two)))

  
  
  


Wesley sat alone in the dark of the lobby, a half-drunk glass of scotch in his hand. He usually tried to avoid alcohol; it had caused so much pain in his family... but this wasn't about his family. Not _that_ family, at any rate.

_'It's about Angel,'_ Wes thought tiredly, _'and Buffy. Like he didn't have enough things going wrong in his life!'_

He got up to pour himself more scotch.

~*~*~

Cordelia stepped out of the shower and toweled herself off briskly. She had to get back to the hotel quickly. Wesley might need her help. _Angel_ might need her help. And she'd done enough to screw things up in the last few days.

Things could've been so different. What if she hadn't been sucked into the portal to Pylea? What if she had been standing _one step_ further back? What if she hadn't read from that book? What if she had done something, _anything_ different? If only they hadn't _wasted_ the past few days! Maybe they could have done something...

~*~*~

Angel sat alone in his room. The lights were off. Dark felt good, somehow. In the room, but also in himself. 

Why hadn't he been there? The question haunted him. He knew he could have done something. He knew how stubborn Buffy could be, and very possibly, she might've still died, no matter what he had said or done. But even so, she wouldn't have been alone when she died. He could've been there with her, to show her that she sould always be respected, and admired, and loved.

Truly, he knew that in all likelihood, Buffy would never have let him save her, if it meant endangering himself. He still felt guilty. He _knew_ he should have been there for her. That was supposed to be the center of his atonement. To be there. Her mentor. Her backbone.

Her Champion.

Years before he'd blown any chance he'd had of helping her. He'd broken all the rules. At long last, Angel had truly fallen in love. It had been more of a hindrance than a help in the long run. Still... Angel wouldn't have traded their time together for the world.

He couldn't sleep. he wasn't sure when - or if - he'd ever be able to sleep again, with these thoughts running through his head.

~*~*~

"Why are you still here?" he asked rudely, noticing Wesley stumbling across the room. "What are you doing?"

"I'm... I'm... I'm getting bloody smashed, that's what I'm doing," Wesley finally admitted. "Would you care to join me?"

Angel paused, considering his options. At long last, his discipline won over, and he shook his head. "I'd better not. I'm not really sure it's a good idea, letting my guard down. Especially now."

Wesley pondered that for a moment, and agreed. "Yes, I s'pose you're right... rather insane suggestion on my part, really."

Angel didn't reply, just stalked over to the mini-fridge and pulled out a bag of blood. He tore into it, and greedily sucked the cold liquid down his throat. His haste caused him to nearly inhale it, and Angel choked, coughing blood from his airless lungs.

"Angel?" Wesley ventured sympathetically, but he was met only with an animalistic snarl and a venemous stare, before Angel shot up the stairs and back to his room.

The building shook from the force of the door slamming. Wesley was left to clean up the red droplets spilled on the floor.

~*~*~

Angel slid down the hard wood of his bedroom door. He wanted to stand, walk, pace. But his legs felt like jelly, and they crumpled beneath him.

Cold tears sprung up in his eyes. He couldn't stand this feeling. Buffy was _gone_. And now he was left to second-guess his actions of the past three days, three years... nearly two and a half centuries. Every false breath he'd taken, every pretense, every step, every kill, every kiss, every moment, wondering which split-second thoughts and actions and brought him to this point.

What could he possibly have done differently, had he known this would happen? Would he have left Sunnydale? Would he have even come to Sunnydale to begin with?

Would he have hired Cordy and Wes, and Gunn? Would he have fired them, or rehired them? Would he have gone after Darla? Would he have slept with her, let her go? Would he have taken Lorne's case? Would he have helped a fellow warrior?

Would he have gone in after Cordelia?

His mind froze, and Angel wondered how he could even let himself _think_ that. _Of course_ he would have rescued Cordelia! She was his _friend_, not to mention his only link to the Powers That Be.

He had to keep fighting. Quitting was not an option. With Buffy gone, his mission was that much more important. Perhaps a new Slayer would be called, but in all reality, they were still short one warrior now. It had taken Buffy five years to become as strong as she... had been.

How would the world change without her? He was certain it couldn't possibly be for the better. But would demons take over the planet, or would there simply be a larger number of victims? Things were bound to become more dangerous. How would Buffy's friends in Sunnydale do without her? Would they stay and fight?

Would they die?

Angel worried that Buffy's death was a beginning as well as an end. It _was_ the end of safety, and comfort. Hope. Would it be the beginning of a streak of bad luck and hard times? Bad things brought even more bad things, or so Angel had found in the past.

Doyle.

That name flashed through him adn he felt again the stab of pain in his heart. Another one gone. Another loved, cherished friend lost to their fight. Another casualty of their never-ending war. 

And then a new thought occured to Angel, one worse than the worst of the others, and he felt himself freeze.

It wasn't... it couldn't possibly be... _him_?

Could it?

  
  
  


Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6


	3. Three

(((Part 3)))

  
  
  


He didn't go to the funeral. He didn't want to see the Scoobies. He didn't want to see Sunnydale. Most of all, he didn't want to see his love lowered under the earth, put to rest in a cemetery they had one stolen kisses in, years past. He wanted those memories forever. Angel didn't want to see a coffin every time he thought of her.

So he stayed in his room, just as he had for a week, hiding from daylight and darkness alike. Hiding from the world.

Cordelia seemed determined to lift his mood. She brought him warm blood, cake, flowers, books, music, human food... anything and everything she thought would cheer him up.

Nothing worked. But truthfully, that point surprised nobody, Cordelia included. They all knew that he would need time.

Everyone had their own opinions and feelings about what had happened. Most were sympathetic.

Wolfram & Hart sent a brochure: "What To Do When A Loved One Passes Away". Luckily, that one found its way to the garbage can before Angel ever saw it.

Other than that, the responses were thoughtful, and sometimes surprising. Lindsey McDonald sent a particularly nice card, and a large bouquet of white roses were displayed under his name at the funeral. Other responses weren't surprising at all (i.e. Lorne's singing telegram). Kate was there every day, supplying sandwiches for the human crew and fresh blood for Angel. She drove down and attended the funeral with Cordelia and Wesley. Gunn stayed in L.A.

They all worried that he would do something. Angel had lost a very important element in his life. For awhile, anyway, Buffy was very possibly _the_ most important element. And while the grief had definitely hit, at the same time, he didn't seem to completely _understand_ what had happened. On the rare occasion that he did leave his room, it was only for a moment or two, and he didn't speak to anyone. If someone mentioned Buffy, he wouldn't talk about her, but seemed to get an odd look on his face, halfway between laughing and crying. Eventually the subject would change, but he still seemed dazed. 

But after those first two days, things began to look up for everyone. Anya was home and as comfortable as possible, considering that she had broken an arm, fractured two ribs and had a minor concussion. Willow and Tara were okay, albeit somewhat bruised. Xander was understandably depressed, but physically fine. Giles was recovering too, and the wound in his stomach was nearly healed.

He never did tell anyone about Ben.

Spike had watched the funeral procession from the shadow of his crypt; indirect sunlight only. Immediately after the funeral, Dawn had run to him, and they'd gone inside together. Dawn didn't come home that night.

Worse, Cordelia and Wesley seemed to be the only ones bothered by this. When they asked, Willow informed her that this had been happening since Dawn had been released from the hospital. Spike was the big brother Dawn had never had, and the two took care of each other, especially now. Truth be told, Spike needed someone to look after him. He'd been the most seriously injured Scooby to survive the fight with Glory, and his survival was due completely to his vampire strength; no one doubted that.

And yet Spike never complained. Instead, he told Dawn stories. They could be a bit gruesome sometimes, but Dawn seemed to enjoy listening to him. It seemed to be the only time she would listen to anyone or anything. When Spike wasn't there, Dawn seemed paralyzed. Comatose, maybe. She didn't seem to be dealing very well. They all worried about that. But what were they supposed to do? Take her to a grief counselor? Ten minutes alone in a room together and Dawn would probably be locked up.

The truth was, all they could do was wait.

Cordelia for one couldn't even _begin_ to imagine how Dawn was feeling. First Joyce, and barely three months later, Buffy. Who did she have left?

Hank Summers hadn't even made it to his daughter's funeral. Every number they had for him had been tried, and tried again. They hadn't heard from him in the longest time; Dawn said she hadn't spoken to him since before Joyce had died. He seemed to have disappeared off the face of the Earth. As much as everyone tried to contact him, though, no one wanted to imagine what would happen to Dawn when he was told.

Cordelia came back from Sunnydale late afternoon the Thursday after the funeral. She'd stayed several days later than Wesley and Kate had, and caught a bus home.

It was as she walked through the front door of the Hyperion that the vision hit her. 

"Oh God!" she gasped as a wave of nausea swept through her body. A bus... yellow... _school bus!_... blood... next to a country road... the demon; eight feet tall, brown, spiney, three mouths...

"Cordelia!" Wesley ran over and helped her to her feet, and then into a chair.

Finally the images cleared and Cordy was able to explain.

"Were there children aboard?" Wesley asked in alarm when she was finished.

Cordelia nodded miserably. "Three. Also the driver."

"Could you describe the demon?" he asked, pulling out a pen and paper.

Cordelia explained again, telling also how it had leapt into the road and caused the bus to crash. This detail ignited a spark of recognition in Wesley's eyes. "A Tangharrek demon... interesting... not much is known about them, except that they're very strong, and like to cause accidents. Disaster victims basically _are_ their meals."

Cordy grimaced. "Would you do me a favor? Go kill this thing! It's completely nasty..."

"Yes...," Wesley said, smiling slightly. It wasn't really _good_ to be back to normal, because normal wasn't ever really good, but...

Cordy hesitated. "Do we... um... do we get Angel?"

Wesley shrugged. "I think we'll have to. Tangharrek demons are very strong... I won't be able to kill it by myself." 

"Okay," Cordy agreed, but she didn't seem sure.

"I'll wake him," Wesley said, sensing her uneasiness. He jogged up the stairs and tapped lightly on Angel's door. "Angel, are you decent?" A muffled grunt answered him, and taking it for a yes, Wesley pushed the door open and stepped inside.

Downstairs, Cordelia groaned and pulled herself to her feet. She plodded over to the counter, where a bottle of aspirin was always kept. She pulled out two and quickly downed them without water, silently berating herself as she always did for bugging Doyle about his drinking. She could do with a whiskey herself right about now.

A moment later, Angel emerged from his room, fully dressed and eagerly followed by Wesley.

"Which road was the bus on?" said Angel by way of greeting. 

Cordelia frowned at his abruptness, but refrained from commenting. "I'm not sure. It was a country road, and I think it was evening. The sun was on the left, so they were heading north..."

"It was in the evening?" Angel asked. "Are you sure?"

Cordy nodded.

"And it was a school bus? Then they were heading home," Wesley pointed out.

Angel nodded. "So they're north of L.A. Okay. That's something."

"There can't be that many country roads around here," Cordelia added.

Angel didn't answer, but walked over to the weapons cabinet, rummaged around and hefted a large ax over his shoulder. He tossed a sword to Wesley, and headed for the front door.

"Hello! Angel! Sunlight!" Cordelia called quickly. "Just wait, okay?" She checked her watch. "Two more minutes. You can drive extra-fast."

Angel ground his teeth and glanced at his own watch. He managed to wait for four seconds before he tossed the keys to Wesley and ran for the back alley entrance. "Bring the car around back!"

Wesley frowned. "Two minutes won't really make much of a difference here," he said in an undertone. 

Cordelia shook her head. "He doesn't know that. I think he believes it will. He's not risking any more regrets."

Wesley frowned. "Regrets? But-"

"_Buffy_, you dumbass!" Cordelia interrupted impatiently. "He thinks that it's his fault. He thinks he could've saved her." She turned away from the door Angel had exited through and finally focused on Wesley. "Would you get going? He's waiting for you."

~*~*~

"Did you get it?" Cordy asked eagerly, as Wesley and Angel trudged through the front door, two hours later.

Angel raised his arm gingerly and winced as a bit of yellow slime hit his marble floor. Wesley made a noise akin to a groan.

Cordelia raised an eyebrow. "I'll take that as a yes. How'd it go? Are the kids okay?"

"Fine," Wesley manage, trudging over to an armchair. 

Angel looked up. "You really should-"

Wesley plopped down.

"-wash that stuff off first," Angel finished lamely before he shrugged and sat down too.

Wesley groaned again.

Angel stared down at the palms of his hands. Strange - it had been so _many_ years since blood had actually circulated through his veins, and yet the lines were still there, worn into his hands for all eternity.

"That felt really good tonight," he said finally, without looking up.

Cordelia glanced over at him in surprise. "What do you mean?"

Angel sighed and folded his hands in his lap. "_Doing_ something. Helping someone." He tried to make himself meet Cordelia's eyes, but couldn't, and settled on the wall behind her instead. "Actually being there."

"Angel...," Cordy said softly, settling down on the floor beside him and reaching for his hand.

Angel smiled bitterly. "Sorry. It's really not important now, is it? I just... never mind."

Wesley seemed to accept this, and nodded sympathetically, but Cordelia frowned.

"Angel, you can't just bottle this up again!" she exclaimed in frustration. "You've _got_ to talk about this! Don't you understand? We're all worried about you, and you've been so _alone_ lately!"

"I... I know. I'm sorry," Angel said, still unable to meet her gaze.

"No!" she said. "You don't get it! Angel, I'm not angry with you, okay? I'm just _worried_ about you! You're trying to handle all of this on your own, but you _can't_! Please, I want to understand."

"Calm down," Angel said, cracking a rare smile. "You seem overly excited about this."

"Cordelia's right," Wesley said. "Angel, when you went after Darla, we were extraordinarily worried. You... well, you became something of a monster. It was terrifying, wondering if you'd do something stupid and lose your soul, and we'd have to kill you... assuming, of course, that you didn't kill us first."

"Exactly," Cordy affirmed. "Angel, we don't want you to do that again. Just talk to us, okay? We want to help you work through this."

"Cordelia, this isn't something I can just work through," Angel replied after a moment. He swallowed, and rasped, "I'm not really sure what to do anymore. It's not like I was used to seeing... her... every day before, but now... now... I'll never see her... _ever_? Ever again?"

"I understand," Cordelia said sympathetically.

"No you don't!" Angel interjected. "Cordelia, that's the problem. For some reason, you seem to think you can relate to what I'm going through, but you _can't_! You've never had bad luck in your life! This is why I fired you, why I went after Darla, because you can't possibly understand! I needed someone who could."

"I-," she protested, but Angel cut her off.

"Oh, poor you, I forgot. Daddy lost the family fortune, so you have to move to L.A. on your own, starving, poor, and- Oops! Wait a second! You get a job by the end of the summer, working for _me_! _I_ paid you whatever I could even when we had no money coming in and even though you didn't _do_ anything. _Charity_, Cordelia, fucking _charity_."

Cordelia's voice shook with anger. "_You_ are an _asshole_! I have had _more_ than my share of bad luck! You can go through your little story there, but you're leaving out a couple of things. How about the fact that I was born and raised in _Sunnydale_, for starters? I have been attacked by everything that Hellmouth could throw at me, and then some. _Including_ you! _Including_ all those vampires we had to cover when Buffy split town _because_ of you! Then, okay, Dad got caught. It's not my fault he screwed up, okay?" She stopped hollering at him and caught her breath. The two of them stared angrily at each other for a long moment of silence. Wesley didn't know what to do. Should he even say anything, or let them work it out?

"I'm sorry," Angel said after a moment, but Cordelia refused to accept his apology.

"I can _feel_ the sincerety," she said icily. "Look, this may not be the best time for you to hear this, but I can't _not_ say it any more! Would you get your damn head out of your butt and look around? You need to get it through your thick skull that you're not the only one who's suffered." She paused, and swallowed. "And you're not the only one who's lost someone you love. How about Doyle, Angel? Did you forget about him?"

"Of course not! I have to live with that every day!" Angel snapped, angry at her refusal to accept the apology he shouldn't have even offered. "Besides, Cordelia, you didn't even give that poor guy the time of day until the day he _died_! How can you even compare that to what Buffy and I have?"

"Don't you get it?" Cordelia shouted. "You two have_nothing_! You _had_ something, _two years_ ago! And she wanted you to stay, but you left anyway, and you know what, Angel? _She moved on!_ She found someone else! She left you behind! And you've been so caught up in your fantasy land that I don't think you ever even acknowledged that fact! And now, you're doing the same thing with her death! You didn't even go to her goddamn _funeral_, Angel!"

"Stop it, both of you!" Wesley roared. "This is ridiculous! I know you both feel badly about all that's been happeneing, but hurting each other like this will only make it worse!" He calmed down, and his next words were softer. "Right now, we all _need_ each other. We can't afford to be angry and resentful. We're all hurt. We're all tired. None of us know what to say or do around each other. Can't we just start over?"

Cordelia relented a bit. "Some of what I said was kind of unfair."

"I just don't think you can... it's not important," Angel said tiredly. "What Wesley said was right. We all need to stick together now. Are we still friends?"

Cordelia offered her hand. "I guess so."

Angel nodded and quietly rose to his feet. "Well, I guess I'm going to head back to bed now. I'm really beat."

The other two nodded and Angel ascended the stairs to the residential portion of the building.

"What the _hell_ are you trying to do?" Wesley snapped at Cordelia as soon as he was gone. "Are you _trying_ to push him away?"

"What was I supposed to do?" she replied angrily. "Just let him say that stuff about me?"

"He's distraught!" Wesley said. "You've made such a big deal about that fact, I think you've missed it yourself! He doesn't mean what he said!"

"How am I supposed to know anymore, Wesley? He's _never_ normal! He _never_ has a normal day! Everything's always changing and-"

"Stop," Wesley said. "Just stop. Let's not argue. I... well, I need your opinion on something anyway."

"What is it?" she asked, inferring from his grave expression that it was a serious matter.

Wesley's stomach fluttered. He needed to tell someone, especially now that going back was feasable. Whether or not he should tell Angel... well, that was why he needed advice.

"I found some information," he said slowly, "on Glory. On how to stop her. Or really, _who_ could stop her."

"What about it?" Cordelia said, slightly annoyed. "I mean, come on, Wesley. They already got rid of her. She's gone."

"Yes, but..." He hesitated.

"She's... she's not going to come back, right?" Cordelia was now a bit more anxious. She sat up straight in her chair. Wesley was usually nervous about _something_, but his brow was furrowed, and he was beginning to sweat. This was not normal Wesley behavior. Even as she noticed it, blood trickled from his lip as his teeth broke the skin. "What is it, Wesley?" she repeated.

Wesley swallowed, building his courage to share the news that had haunted him since the night of Buffy's death, and stopped short. He thought, but couldn't find the right way to say it. Finally he just had to speak, no matter how it sounded. "Angel was... he could've been the one that went through the portal. He could've been the one to stop Glory, instead of Buffy."

"What are you...? Wesley, that's really not funny," Cordelia said, but there was no force behind her words.

"It's not a joke," Wesley said quietly.

"Oh God...," she groaned. "Wesley... are you going to tell Angel?" She rushed on. "No. No, you _can't_! It'll kill him. Oh, please tell me you haven't already told him!"

"I haven't," Wesley assured her. "Frankly, I wasn't going to tell anyone, but... well, something happened tonight, with that demon. It took me awhile to figure out exactly _what_, but..."

"What?" Cordelia asked, confused. "Wesley, just spit it out."

"The Tangharrek demon!" Wesley said excitedly. "Its tail has large spines, and one of them cut me across the stomach! It was a deep cut; I thought I was dead at first."

"Are you okay?" Cordy asked, concerned. "Oh my God, Wes, I didn't even notice when you walked in! Are you okay? Do you need to go to the hospital?"

"No, no, no!" he interrupted. "You're missing the point entirely. "I'm not cut anymore, don't worry. That's why you didn't see it." He grinned.

"Okay, somebody in here has seriously lost it, and I don't think it's me," Cordelia declared. "Did you get hit on the head or something?"

Wesley smiled. "No. When I stabbed the Tangharrek, its blood got into my wound. It was strange... I felt like I was being yanked right through a door, like hundreds of hands were pulling me through. And the next thing I knew, I was back where I was moments before, just before I was injured. But that time I moved, and I wasn't hurt."

"Wait a minute, are you saying you travelled back in time?" Cordelia asked, now deeply intrigued.

Wesley nodded excitedly. "Yes! Exactly!"

The pieces began to fit together in Cordelia's mind, and she swallowed as she finally put voice to Wesley's thoughts. "You think we can go back in time so Angel can save Buffy!"

Wesley smiled. "Exactly. Now all I have to do is find the right spell."

Cordelia's wondering grin faded. "Wait! But... I mean, I thought you already knew how to work all this stuff. The demon's blood, right?"

"No," Wesley corrected. "The demon's blood took me back in time a few mere minutes. I need to find a way for Angel to go back more than a week. Not to mention, I would rather not have to inject the blood. I'm sure there's a spell that will let us increase its potency."

"Well... how long is all of this going to take?" Cordy asked him. "The longer we wait, the harder all of this is going to be."

"Actually..." Wesley hesitated. "Well, it's not all that important..."

"Yeah right," she said impatiently. "You wouldn't look so guilty if it wasn't important. What is it, Wesley? What did you do?"

"Nothing!" Wes protested. "I haven't done anything, I promise you!"

"Come on, spill it!" she insisted. "I know that look!"

"I don't want to seem cruel," he explained slowly. "I just... let's just... well, if we can find a way to go back a long time, then let's just... sit on this for awhile."

"Are you out of your mind?!" Cordelia yelped. "Can you even _imagine_ how Angel is feeling right now?! Let's give him some hope, something to work with!"

"No!" Wesley argued. "Cordelia, you don't seem to realize the seriousness of our situation! Angel needs to make this decision with his _brain_, not his heart! Ultimately, he's going to have to choose between Buffy's life and his own. _One_ of them is going to die. If Buffy comes back, it will be because Angel _doesn't_."

Cordelia's mouth hung open, and when her voice again sounded, it held a definite waiver. "W-We'd lose Angel?"

Wesley nodded solemnly. "That's why I want to wait. Let Angel grieve. Let him regain rational thought, and his honest perspective. He's going to have to decide who does more good for the world; himself or Buffy."

  
  
  


Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6


	4. Four

(((Part 4)))

  
  
  


A week later, they were no closer to finding a solution. Meanwhile, time was running out. The Tangharrek's blood was deteriorating bit by bit, even sealed in a plastic bag and chilling in the refridgerator.

Cordelia and Wesley spent every spare moment they had frantically searching through every book in their library. Twice that week, Cordelia had made special runs to the second-hand bookstores in town, bringing back anything and everything she could find on time travel, magic, demon blood, or simply the occult in general.

Angel had paid no notice to their activities. He had left the hotel twice, both times on the heels of Cordelia's visions. Both times, he had returned without a word.

Wesley didn't want to admit it, but he was on the verge of giving up. There was simply too much information, and not enough time in the day. It was like looking for a very tiny needle in a very large haystack under a great deal of pressure.

Gunn and Kate were helping now too, but in a different capacity. Living in a big city like L.A., there were bound to be people who knew how to go back in time, especially when they already knew one property of the spell they would use. Well, they had _thought_ someone had to know, but either they had been wrong, or that person was very good at hiding.

Angel still knew nothing. Wesley had coerced them all into not even mentioning the Tangharrek demon, lest the vampire remember the detail about its blood and stop grieving to start researching.

The problem was that Angel didn't seem to be doing that well. Little things were beginning to defeat him. He didn't seem to truly comprehend what he was doing anymore, only that it was routine, and therefore natural. They could all see that _something_ was playing out in his brain, but what? And how much longer should they just let it go?

Opportunity knocked exactly nineteen days after Buffy's death.

Angel finally had to leave his room. He was starving; even he couldn't ignore hunger for more than a day. Completely aside from discomfort, it simply wasn't safe. If his hunger took control, then Angelus did as well. He couldn't let that happen.

"Damn it!" he muttered. The fridge in his bedroom was empty. Kate must not have come by yet.

With a sigh, Angel opened his door and plodded downstairs. Maybe there was some blood in the office refridgerator.

"Hello, Angel," Wesley greeted him. Angel nodded back and continued over to his blood supply. He yanked open the door, and then stared in disbelief. His blood was gone! "Have any of you guys gone out for blood recently?" Before any of them could answer, he realized his mistake and corrected himself. "One left. But would one of you please get more soon?"

"Why don't you?" Cordelia grumped under her breath.

Wesley looked up from his book. "One left? Oh, that's..." Angel bit through the plastic and Wesley hollered. "Angel, no!"

With a sigh, Angel opened his door and plodded downstairs. Maybe there was some blood in the office refridgerator.

"Hello, Angel," Wesley greeted him. 

Angel froze and shook his head. "Deja vu," he muttered. "I thought... but I already..."

Wesley looked up from his book. "What did you say?"

Angel actually chuckled. "Wow. That was really weird. I could've sworn... didn't I just walk down the stairs and...?"

"What?" Cordelia said skeptically. She was worried now. Maybe he _had_ finally lost it. "Angel, what are you talking about?"

"I-I just went through all of this!" Angel exclaimed. "I came downstairs, went over to the fridge, and when I started to drink the blood, Wesley yelled at me, and then all of the sudden, I was back where I started, walking down the-"

"You said I yelled at you?" Wesley cut him off, closing his book and walking over to the fridge. He exchanged looks with Cordelia, who was also beginning to understand. "And you drank..." He opened the fridge door, and stared in disbelief.

"What's wrong?" Cordelia asked him.

"It's gone," Wesley replied in an undertone.

"What is?" Angel asked, confused. "Wesley, what's going on?"

Wesley turned around nervously, and then spied the package of blood in Angel's hand. "Give that to me!" he commanded.

But Angel was suspicious now. "Not until you tell me what's going on. There's something you two aren't telling me."

Wesley inched toward him, his hand outstretched. "Please, Angel, just give that to me. We can't waste a drop; we might need it."

"What is it?" Angel asked, standing his ground.

"Blood," Wesley said. "Demon blood. You don't want to drink it."

"Why is it so important?" Angel asked slowly. "What are you trying to do with it? And where did you get it?"

"Why don't we all sit down and just talk about this?" Cordelia proposed anxiously. She didn't like the way the two were looking at each other. Angel was being paranoid, and Wesley looked ready to fight him for the blood.

But slowly, they both moved off of the stairs toward the couches and chairs. Cordelia breathed a sigh of relief. She could _feel_ the tension in the air, so thick it was physical.

And then suddenly, Angel ripped into the bag. Nearly three weeks of grief and confusion had made him a reckless, dangerous soul. He guzzled down the contents of the bag, continuing to drink even as he heard Wesley's shouts, Cordelia's screaming. Even as he felt the world slide away around him. He drank until the bag was empty.

And then he looked up. The Hyperion, Cordelia, Wesley, they were all gone. At first he didn't recognize where he was; he'd seen it only in nightmares for the past three years.

But he had been here so long, the memories didn't take long to surface, and as they did, Angel trembled with fear. he cursed himself for his stupidity, his bravado, his carelessness. Now he knew where he was.

Hell.

  
  
  


Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | 


	5. Five

(((Part 5)))

  
  
  


He sat in the darkness, huddled against himself, trembling, trying to think. It was a nearly impossible task. Adrenaline and fear coursed through his body; sharp, biting, horrible, debilitating fear.

"I _have_ to concentrate!" he said fiercely, balling his hands into fists. He tried to remember what he had learned when he was here before. Truth be told, he remembered nothing of his visit. By the time he had gotten to whatever point he found himself at now, his constant torment had driven him so crazy that he's become hardly a vampire at all. He'd ceased to exist as a person and become a mindless animal.

There were no chains or restraints holding him in place, Angel soon discovered, rising to his feet. No devils, no demons, just darkness all around him, and his tortured thoughts to keep him in place.

There was something about this world, something hopeless. He couldn't see himself in the dark, couldn't check his watch - not that it would have mattered - but he wouldn't have guessed he'd been there for more than ten minutes.

Somehow, there was something about this place that could make a man turn on himself in ten minutes. Was it being so alone? Since he'd been here, Angel's thoughts had been plagued with images of death and violence from his past. Every bad deed he'd ever done, the face of every person he'd ever killed, it was all blocking his mind, preventing him from hatching any plans he might've had to escape.

"I _must_ get out of here!" he repeated to himself urgently.

Suddenly there was a flash of light, and Angel was momentarily blinded. His hand automatically rose to shield his eyes, and when they adjusted, he gasped in shock. 

It was as if a window had opened, and he could see his world again. It was night, and he was staring up at a metal platform... Buffy! He could see Buffy! She was standing right there! And Dawn... she was crying... Buffy was running toward the edge...

He stared in disbelief. She wasn't planning to _jump_, was she? 

"Buffy, _no_!" he shouted, but he knew she couldn't hear him. And then, agonizingly slow, she fell through the air, plummeting to a very certain death, and Angel knew why they called this Hell. He watched, transfixed, as Buffy's face contorted in pain, as the portal's energy sucked the life our of her. He could see her face, closer, and closer, and closer...

...and then she tumbled to the ground at his feet. Angel gasped in shock. "Buffy? W-What the..."

She gasped too, and reached up, feeling out as if she weren't sure she was breathing air. "Oh... Oh God..." And then she looked up, and gasped again at her second shock. "Angel? Oh my God, what are you..." She started to cry. "Oh God, I'm dead! Is this...?"

And then the portal began to close! "No!" Angel shouted. He grabbed Buffy's hand and leapt forward, diving through the silvery light...

They were falling through the air above the construction sight. Angel was plummeting face first; he was still holding onto Buffy's hand and quickly pulled her closer to him, just in time to cushion her fall with his body.

They hit the ground, and Buffy gasped for breath as the wind was knocked out of her. She sounded like a punctured balloon, hissing and grasping for air. She rolled off of Angel, clutching her stomach, and crawled away, catching her breath.

"Buffy!" Angel heard someone shout. "Buffy, are you okay? Oh my God!" It sounded like Xander. 

"Buffy?" he gasped weakly, trying to move. He found that he couldn't. He tried to sit up, and failed at that, too. "Buffy?" he asked again, needing to know that she was alright.

"I-I'm... oh God, Angel!" she gasped, quickly clawing her way through the rubble, back to his side. "Angel, are you okay?!"

"I'm okay," he managed, again trying, and again failing, to sit up.

"No, don't move!" she directed, getting her senses back. "Oh, God, look at you...," she muttered. 

"Angel?" It was Willow's voice. She sounded frightened. "H-How did you...?"

"Spike!" Buffy screamed. Spike hobbled over as best as he could, and dropped to his knees beside Buffy and Angel.

"Bloody hell," he muttered. Angel looked about as beat up as he felt. It made sense; they had fallen about the same distance, only Angel had had someone land on top of him, as well.

"You guys have to help me move him!" Buffy directed, panicking. The sun was rising! She could see it coming over the ridge! Spike moved to pick up Angel's feet, but Buffy pushed him away and yelled again. "No! You get inside, now! They can help me!"

Spike didn't argue further. He limped toward the nearest warehouse, hoping there was sewer access inside so that he wouldn't have to wait around all day. He wanted to go home, back to his crypt; put his feet up, get completely smashed, and then sleep for the rest of the day.

Giles and Willow rushed to help carry Angel. Giles grabbed his arms, while Willow lifted his feet. 

"Angel, are you okay?" Buffy kept repeating, pacing next to them. She clutched her side, wincing with every step that she took. As they neared the warehouse, Giles and Willow kept going, but Buffy turned around. "I'll be right back!" She ran up the tower, and almost cried when she saw Dawn walking down toward her.

"Buffy?" Dawn asked, stopping short. She sounded dazed. "You're... You're..."

"I'm okay," Buffy promised her, walking forward. She grabbed her sister and hugged her tightly. "Oh God, Dawnie..."

Dawn hugged back, and began to cry. "Buffy! I thought you were going to die..."

"Me too," Buffy said. Then she grabbed Dawn's hand and helped her the rest of the way to the ground. "What about you? Are you okay? I think we need to get you to a doctor," she continued. The cuts across Dawn's stomach were still bleeding. Finally, they reached the bottom, and Buffy led Dawn over to the warehouse where everyone was now waiting.

Angel laughed in relief as Buffy and Dawn walked through the door. He was propped up against the wall, and winced as the laugh shook through his body. "Dawn, you're okay," he gasped, and tried to smile. 

"Angel?" Dawn exclaimed incredulously. "How did you get here?"

"That's kind of a long story," he explained weakly. "Maybe we could get into it _later_...?"

"We need to get you somewhere comfortable," Buffy said, smiling apologetically at him. She looked up at Giles. "Do we have sewer access here?"

"We do, but I'm not sure we'll be able to carry him all the way back to... well, wherever we want to go," Giles said, stumbling over it. He didn't want to put Buffy on the spot and invite Angel to stay at her house, but Buffy took care of the problem.

"My place," she said firmly. "We have a guest bedroom now, and I can keep the curtains closed."

"Very well, then," Giles agreed, smiling inwardly. Wasn't this an odd sort of reunion... "But that still brings us back to how to get him there."

"I can walk," Angel offered, bracing himself against the wall in an attempt to stand.

"You can't," Buffy objected. "Look at you! You're in terrible shape."

"No, really, I'm healing by the second here," Angel insisted, even as he began to fall back over.

Buffy and Willow rushed to catch him. Each pulled one of his arms across their shoulders, and Angel struggled to not lean on them completely. "Maybe the help is good, I guess," he acknowledged, slightly embarrassed.

"You men and your pride," Buffy muttered under her breath, shooting him a grin. "Are we ready to go?"

"Do we... all have to go through the sewer?" Anya mumbled. "It smells icky down there..."

Xander laughed, but quickly coughed to cover it up. "Uh, you guys, Anya's a little, erm, injured... I think I'm going to take her straight to the hospital, okay?"

"Sure," Buffy agreed. "That's a good idea." She glanced over at the rest of the group. "Anyone who wants to take the less-murky route, feel free. Anyone who won't burst into flames, anyway," she added, to Spike.

"I'll stay with Willow," Tara said quietly.

"How come I don't get nursemaids?" Spike complained. 

Dawn smiled. "I'll carry you, Spike," she offered.

"That's why I like you, l'il bit...," he muttered, putting his arm around her shoulder.

"No," Buffy said to Dawn. "You're going to the hospital with Xander and Anya. Xand, would you get a doctor to check out those cuts on her stomach?"

"No problem," Xander assured her.

"But Spike needs me!" Dawn objected.

"Don't worry about me," Spike told her. "I'm tough, I can take it." Angel snorted, and Spike shot him a look before continuing. "You need to see a doctor," he continued to Dawn. "Buffy's right. I heal fine on my own."

Dawn still seemed worried, but she headed back outside with Xander and Anya.

"Are we ready, then?" Giles prompted them, opening up the manhole cover and climbing down. 

"Okay, how are we going to do this?" Buffy asked rhetorically, as she, Willow, and Angel hobbled toward the hole.

"Pass him down!" Giles called from below.

"You know, I think I can manage to climb on my own," Angel told them, the indignity of being 'passed down' a little bit too much. He slipped once, but regained his balance, and then called up at Buffy, Willow and Tara, who were all still above ground. "Okay!"

Tara came down next, followed by Willow, and then Buffy last of all. "Okay," Buffy told them, as she and Willow took up position under Angel's arms. "March on, troops!" 

They walked in silence for about half a mile, before Buffy stopped. "This is the stop closest to my house," she told them. "But we're still in the middle of the road... Giles, would you and Tara go up first and get a blanket for Angel?"

"Of course," Giles agreed. They opened up the cover and ran toward Buffy's house. 

Buffy and Willow pulled Angel around the side of the ladder, away from the sunlight. "How are you doing?" Buffy asked him, concerned.

"I'll live," he replied, and then laughed at the irony of it. Buffy smiled again, and Angel could feel the butterflies going at it in his stomach. He kept wanting to pinch himself... but then, the ache through his legs, and back, and arms and neck was almost enough. 

A moment later, Giles's face appeared in the hole, blocking out some of the sunlight. "Catch!" he called, dropping the blanket down. Willow grabbed it, and Buffy helped her to spread it over Angel. He grabbed at the edges and held it close to his body, and then began to climb up the ladder.

"Giles, get him inside!" Buffy called up.

As soon as Angel was out, Giles grabbed him and nearly carried him across the grass and through Buffy's front door. Buffy and Willow were right behind him, and they kept going, straight up the stairs and down the hall to Buffy's old room.

Buffy helped him over to the bed, and quickly drew the curtains. Then Angel could take the blanket off.

He was amazed when he looked around. The room looked nothing like he remembered it. Her posters were gone, as were the butterflies that used to hang above the bed. Her pictures and books and jewelry were missing, and there were no drawings or clippings or photos stuck in the frame of the mirror. The window was shut and locked. 

"It's a new look, I know," Buffy said wryly. She sat down beside him. "I haven't had time to re-decorate yet."

"We'll be downstairs," Willow said suddenly, ushering Giles and Tara out of the room. "I think you two need some alone-time."

Buffy smiled as the door was shut, and when she turned, she saw that Angel looked ready to laugh, too. "Yeah, they're usually a little bit more subtle," she said, finally giggling.

Angel smiled. "Yeah..." He coughed, suddenly uncomfortable. "So, you're not staying in here anymore. You... moved into your mom's room...?"

Buffy was uncomfortable now, too. "Yeah. I felt like I needed to... I don't know, I mean... I'm kind of responsible for Dawn now, and... it kind of goes with the whole authority thing, I guess. Moving into the master bedroom."

Angel nodded. "Makes sense." He coughed, and was surprised to see that blood showed up in his hand.

Buffy noticed it too. "I guess... well, none of this can really kill you, right?" she attempted, too lightly. She dropped to her knees and pulled his shoes off, and then lifted his feet up on the bed. "You need to rest." She pulled the covers back and tucked him in.

"Do I get a bedtime story?" Angel joked weakly.

Buffy smiled, sitting down beside him. "Once upon a time, there was a noble prince and his loving princess, who lived together in an enchanted kingdom. They did everything together, battling evil sorcerors and invading conquerors, all to protect the peasants, who never really knew what was happening." Her grin began to fade as she continued, caught up in the story. "Then one day, the prince left the princess. He thought that his life was too dark for her, and hoped that maybe if he left, the evil sorcerors and invading conquerors would stop coming. He thought that if he left, the princess could live like a real princess, instead of having to climb out of her tower window every night..."

"Buffy...," Angel whispered in protest.

"Well, the princess tried to forget about the prince," Buffy continued, oblivious. She chuckled bitterly. "She did a lot of stupid things, throwing wild parties and... well... she did a lot of stupid things. And then, one day, she met someone. She tried to love him with all of her heart, but she realized that she still loved her prince. So she tried to put her love aside, and to love her prince like a friend, and for awhile, she thought she could do it.

"And then one day, the man the princess loved left her, too, and she finally realized that she could be in love with both of them in different ways, but it was too late. They were both gone. And the princess couldn't really accept that, so she began to work more and more. She threw herself into battling those evil sorcerors..." She stopped, and choked. "And then one day, the princess got herself into more trouble than she could handle. She had forgotten about her friends and her family, and about her prince, and about how much it would hurt to lose all of them. A new sorceror was trying to kill them all, and the princess was so tired that she stopped caring, and she decided that she should die, because she knew that she would die one day anyway, and that day was as good a day as any. She thought she didn't know how to live anymore." A single tear fell from Buffy's eye, and she stared down at her hands, still continuing her story. "She couldn't stand all the times that she had let herself get hurt, because she couldn't learn from her mistakes... and it was pretty convenient, she had to die to stop this sorceror, too. So she threw herself into it, and she thought she was doing the best thing..." She stopped completely, and looked back up at Angel. "And then, as she was falling, she could see the face of her prince," she said softly. "Her prince was there, somehow, staring back at her, and then she looked around, and she saw her family and her friends, and in that split second, even while she was dying, she realized that she *did* still have a reason to live..."

"How does the story end?" Angel asked her softly, sitting up again to wrap his arms around her.

"Somehow, just as the princess thought that she had lost everything, her prince managed to save her... he saved her life. Like he always did, because he was always there for her, even after he left. Even when she didn't know it." She laughed abruptly. "And they all lived happily ever after."

They sat in silence for a long time, just holding each other. The reality of what had happened had really just sunk in, and neither could believe any of it. Life was an entirely new concept for Buffy. Everything she saw, everything she smelled and tasted and touched was completely different, completely novel, completely new. She savored the minutes she spent in Angel's arms, locking them away inside her heart for when she knew he would go away again.

Finally Angel sat back and sighed. "I have some things I need to tell you, too," he said softly.

Buffy nodded solemnly. "Go ahead."

"I was human for a day," he launched. He was tired of waiting, and if this experience had taught him anything, it was how it would feel to lose her. Honesty was more important than he ever could have imagined. He wasn't going to pass up his second chance. "That Thanksgiving right after I left Sunnydale, when you came up to visit me. A Mohra demon attacked us, it turned me human, and we were together for a whole day. Then I realized that I couldn't fight while I was mortal, so I turned back time. I'm the only one that remembers it."

Buffy nodded. "Yeah, that sounds like you, alright." She glared at him. "You _do_ know you're just too completely selfless for your own good." She sighed.

Angel smiled, and she curled up next to him. "Well, I guess this should be kind of a bargaining thing," Buffy said at last. "Spike's a member of the Scooby Gang..."

"I noticed," Angel snorted, unable to repress a laugh. "I have to say, I didn't see that one coming."

"Well, there's more," Buffy said nervously. "I don't want you to react to this the wrong way... I mean, you do tend to be a little bit protective - and for God's sake, don't go stake him! but... well... he's kind of in love with me."

Angel sighed and closed his eyes. "Just please tell me he still has that damn chip in his head," he muttered through clenched teeth.

"Um, yeah," Buffy affirmed. "Listen, you don't really have to worry. He's really good about it. I mean, at first, he was coming on a little strong, but... he's good now. He's not mean or dangerous... you know, he fell off that tower trying to protect Dawn. Angel, he's... I mean, I'm sure this is going to sound like a strange thing to say about Spike, but... he's really turned into a gentleman."

Angel opened his eyes and stared at her. "Do you... I mean... you don't think of him... _that_ way? Do you... _love_ him?"

"Angel, he knows that we will never be together," Buffy said plainly. "I can't say I don't love him, to be completely honest, but I'm not *in* love with him, if that's what you mean."

He sighed. "Just as long as _he_ knows that. And you know, he doesn't take a hint. I hope you made it pretty clear."

"Oh, I did," Buffy agreed. Then she hesitated. "Well, we're trading secrets, information, deep, dark, deadly skeletons we never thought we'd share with each other here, right?"

"Yeah...," Angel said, slightly worried. "What is it?"

"It's not anything major," she assured him. "I just... well, I kissed him once."

"I didn't want to know that," Angel said, his eyes closing again, in disgust and exasperation.

"Are you mad at me?" she asked anxiously.

"Buffy, you have the right to make your own choices," he said tiredly. "I can't beat you over the head every time I think you make a mistake or a wrong choice, but goddamn! I think that was one of them..."

She smiled. "Wait a minute, do I detect a hint of _jealousy_?"

Angel just smiled and hugged her. "Buffy, I don't care what you do, just as long as you stay alive, okay? You know I want you to be happy." He kissed the top of her head. "Happy and *alive*. Don't die again, please."

"Yeah, that's definitely a goal," she agreed. "Don't die again... Geez, do you realize I've died twice now? This is really getting ridiculous... and oh, God! I hope they don't call _another_ Slayer!"

Angel laughed, and rolled over, and...

  
  
  


Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6


	6. Six

(((Part 6)))

  
  
  


Angel laughed, and rolled over, and woke up. He shot straight up in bed, gasping as he realized where he really was. He was still fully clothed, laying in bed, and he realized that he was in his bedroom in the Hyperion, and not in Buffy's room. A glance at the window revealed that it was still dark outside.

Had he been dreaming? It couldn't have all been a dream... could it? But maybe... maybe that meant that Buffy hadn't died, after all. He closed his eyes again, trying to picture walking back into the hotel and coming upstairs to go to bed.

But he couldn't. When he closed his eyes, he saw walking inside and seeing Willow standing there. He couldn't remember what words she'd used, or really much at all after that, but he knew what had happened.

Hope was beginning to fade. Angel jumped out of bed and quickly ran back downstairs to the lobby, praying that someone could correct him and he could go back to his dream world and Buffy would be okay and they'd be together and they'd both get a second chance...

Wesley jumped up when he saw him, nearly dropping his scotch. "Angel, what's wrong? Are you alright?"

"Wesley, how long have I been sleeping?" Angel asked him urgently, wishing he had thought to just check his watch.

Wesley sat back down. "About half an hour, I suppose. Cordelia will be back any minute..." He hesitated, not really sure of what to say. "Did you want something?"

Angel seemed unsure of what to say himself. "I just... I had a dream, I think... I'm not really sure of how much of it was real... What happened before I went to sleep? What day is it?"

Wesley stopped short. "Do you know, I'm not really sure! I don't know how time goes by in Pylea compared to Earth..."

"So that part was real...," Angel muttered. He looked up hesitantly. "Wesley... what happened when... when we got home?"

Wesley sighed and patted Angel on the shoulder sympathetically. "I'm afraid you weren't dreaming that part, Angel. Willow was here. She, erm... she told us about... uh..."

Angel froze, and sat back in his chair. "So, um... Buffy really is d-..." He choked on the last word, and couldn't really make it leave his mouth. Not in the same sentence as 'Buffy'.

"Angel, I'm so sorry," Wesley said, unsure if he'd ever actually said it that evening.

Angel nodded slightly. "Nothing... nothing else happened? When did Willow leave?"

"About an hour ago," Wesley said. "Just a little while before you came down here, and then went back up to your room."

He began to remember it; walking downstairs for a drink, choking and running back up to his room, ashamed and angry. How he'd sat on the floor for awhile, and then decided to try for sleep. So he'd actually slept! But that meant that things were as he'd left them. Buffy was gone. She didn't know about any of it... about the Mohra demon, about the prophecy... and in all truth, she would probably never know.

"I... I dreamed that I saved her," Angel said softly, broken-hearted that it had all been a figment of his imagination. Why couldn't it have _really_ happened?

Wesley didn't know what to say. "I'm sorry," he said again.

"I saved her," Angel said again, dazed. "In my dream, I saved her. She was alive, and... I told her everything." He began to cry quietly. "I... I put her through so much the past two years... it was so real... I know it had to have been real for her... I'll never... I'll never get to see her again, to tell her how sorry I am... I don't get a second chance..."

Cordelia walked through the front door just then. "Oh no, what happened?" she asked right away, seeing Angel's red eyes. "Everybody else is okay, right?"

Angel nodded, and then stood up. "I... I think I need to be alone."

Cordelia nodded sympathetically, watching him slowly return to his room. "How is he going to get past this? My _God_, Wesley..." she said quietly.

"I know," he agreed, equally soft. All of it was overwhelming.

~*~*~

The next day, Angel managed to awaken at three p.m., like usual. He wasn't sure why his body was still able to function on its regular schedule, but somehow, it was.

As soon as he woke, he headed down the stairs. He'd reached a decision the last night, and he figured it was only fair to let his friends know about it right away.

"Morning," Gunn said, deliberately leaving the 'good' off as Angel walked toward them.

"I have an announcement," he said quietly, and Cordelia and Wesley turned toward him as well. Angel hesitated, not really sure how he should present it. "I'm leaving, for awhile," he said finally. "I... I need some time to work through all of this."

Cordelia's coffee mug dropped and shattered, causing them all to jump.

"I'm sorry!" she exclaimed, grabbing frantically at tissues. Angel found the trash can and brought it over to her, setting it next to the mess on the floor. 

"Stop," he said gently, holding her hands in his. Cordelia looked up, and Angel could see that she had tears in her eyes. "It's okay," he said quietly, cracking a smile. "It's just spilled coffee. Not the end of the... It's no big deal." 

Cordy nodded and the two quickly cleaned up the mess. "When are you going?" she asked when they were done, not meeting Angel's eyes.

"Tonight," he said quietly. "I called last night and found tickets on a freighter to Europe. I'm not really sure where I'm going yet, but... I'll know when I get there."

"I-I think it's good that you're... dealing with this," Wes offered, trying to smile. "You know we'll all be here when you get back."

"When will you get back?" Cordelia asked.

"I don't know," Angel said simply. "I don't think I'll know until I'm here again." She nodded, and seemed to accept it.

"Good luck," Gunn said simply. He didn't really need to say more. Angel understood, and was grateful. They were both subtle, taciturn men, although Angel had found it hard to remain impassive over the past day and a half.

"Well... do you have everything you need?" Cordelia asked, suddenly flitting busily around the counter. "Why don't I pack you some sandwiches? I mean, I know you don't need food, but maybe you'll be homesick. I mean, you might want-"

"Cordelia, stop," Angel urged her, wrapping her in a hug. "It's okay. I'll be back, I promise."

Cordelia sighed. "It's just... you seem so _calm_ about all of this now... it's a little freaky."

Angel nodded, and frowned. "I guess it's a little easier. I know what I have to do now. And I know it'll help me..."

"Angel, it's not really that," Cordelia sighed. She laughed nervously, and then stopped, staring up at him. "I'm really going to miss you," she said softly.

Angel was surprised. He hadn't really thought about that. He knew that if he stayed in L.A., all he would do is sit around and mope. Not really fun to be around. Somehow, he'd assumed that they would've known that, and would've been glad to get rid of him. But when he told them, Cordelia especially was shocked that he would even think that.

"We all love you!" she objected. "Angel, you are a part of my family, okay? I may get a little fed up with your brooding... occaisionally... but I wouldn't trade you for anyone else in the world!"

Angel hugged her again. "I _am_ going to miss you guys," he said quietly, before he pulled away. "But I have to go. All of this... I feel like I've gotten completely lost. I need to find my way again."

"Just so you know that you have us to come back to," Cordelia said quietly.

  
  
  


Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6


End file.
